SEP  17   1919 
A  List  of 

EIGHTY-SEVEN   POETS 


Representing  American   ^Verse 

from 

1900  to  1919 


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rIf  nevertheless  God  have  called  any  of  you  to  explore 
Truth  and  Beauty,  be  bold,  be  firm,  be  true." 


Syracuse  Reprint  of  the  Library  Lists 

of  the 

POETRY  SOCIETY  OF  AMERICA 


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Published  by 

The  Syracuse  Public  Library 

Syracuse    GNew  York 

July,   igig 

''Trice.  20  cents 


402378 


The  Service  of  Poetry 


In  these  stirring  and  tremendous  times  the  American  public  library  has  many  oppor- 
tunities for  service.  Among  these  one  of  the  highest  is  that  of  introducing  to  their  fellow- 
men  those  artists  who  through  the  printed  word  interpret  human  life,  and  hold  aloft  the 
torch  of  the  ideal. 

To  be  chosen,  therefore,  as  the  official  agency  for  advertising  the  wares  of  such  Amer- 
ican poets  as  have  earned  the  approval  of  the  Poetry  Society  of  America  is  both  an  honor 
and  a  peculiarly  happy  opportunity  for  continuing  our  work  as  promoters  of  good  reading. 

THE  STAFF  OF  THE  SYRACUSE  PUBLIC  LIBRARY. 


What  the  Syracuse  Reprint  Is 

Toward  the  close  of  1913  the  Poetry  Society  of  America,  through  a  committee  selected 
from  its  officers  and  members,  made  a  list  of  such  books  of  American  contemporary  poetry 
as  could  in  their  opinion  be  recommended  for  purchase  by  libraries  both  public  and  private 
and  for  reading  and  study  by  all  who  desired  to  keep  in  touch  with  poetic  movements  in 
this  country.  The  list  of  that  year  was  printed  in  the  columns  of  the  Library  Journal  for 
February,  1914.  This  first  of  our  Library  Lists  was  extended  to  cover  more  or  less  per- 
fectly the  years  from  1900  to  1913.  Librarians  were  at  that  time  noting  the  awakened 
interest  in  our  own  native  poetry,  and  there  was  a  call  for  the  publication  of  like  Lists  in 
the  years  that  followed.  The  Library  Journal  continuing  its  hospitality,  the  Lists  here- 
after were  made  every  December  and  were  given  to  the  public  in  the  February  following. 
After  a  while  the  Syracuse  Public  Library,  through  the  interest  of  its  chief  librarian,  Paul 
M.  Paine,  reprinted  those  Lists  in  its  Bulletin  and  through  these  reprints  the  Lists  have 
reached  a  still  wider  usefulness.  The  List  that  follows  here  is  a  restated  and  somewhat 
condensed  arrangement  of  all  these  Lists,  thus  including  volumes  from  1900  to  1919.  It  has 
been  carefully  arranged,  the  titles  and  publishers  are  named,  a  note  of  appreciation  and  a 
short  quotation  are  given  with  each  author.  In  this  form  it  is  hoped  that  the  Syracuse 
Reprint  will  meet  a  wide  need  among  people  who  feel  the  necessity  to  know  the  poetry  of 
today  and  among  those  who  do  not  but  would  if  they  realized  how  much  more  there  is  of  it 
and  how  vital  a  thing  it  is  at  the  present  moment. 

It  should  be  understood  by  all  users  of  this  List  that  the  Committee  distinctly  disclaim 
definitive  judgments  upon  the  ultimate  value  of  the  books  chosen.  They  simply  present  to 
poetry  lovers  and  to  all  who  believe  expression  in  poetry  (as  well  as  in  the  other  arts)  to 
be  essential  to  our  national  development,  a  guide  to  present-day  trends  in  poetry — a  means 
of  finding  out  what  is  happening  in  our  own  poetic  realm.  One  would  say  that  the  people 
who  wish  to  be  fairly  well  read  in  our  national  literature  should  know  at  least  these  among 
the  many  hundreds  of  volumes  of  native  poetry  that  might  be  annually  urged  upon  them. 
The  effort  has  been  made  to  include  books  that  show  finished  artistry,  fresh  impulses,  some 
real  contribution  of  new  born  thought,  some  fresh  inspiration  illuminating  old  thought,  or 
some  bold  and  noble  dash  that  comes  from  the  depths  of  a  soul  intensely  native  and  innately 
chaste.  To  be  sure  omissions  of  valued  books  sometimes  occur.  Not  all  books  of  poetry 
are  published  by  well-known  publishers.  Out-of-the-way  printers  often  get  hold  of  a  gem 
of  purest  ray  serene.  Hence  the  Committee  are  glad  to  receive  suggestions  from  any  source 
as  to  privately-printed  or  other  books  of  verse  that  might  otherwise  escape  their  attention. 
Address  the  Chairman  of  the  Committee,  Mrs.  Martha  Foote  Crow,  16  Morningside  Avenue. 
New  York  City. 


The  Corcrpitfec  fcm  Library  Lists  in  the  Poetry  Society  of  America  will  continue  its 
annual  reports  on  current  poetry  and  present  these  in  the  February  number  of  the  Library 
Journal  (241  West  37th  Street,  New  York  City).  Some  slight  changes  will  be  made  after 
this  year.  Heretofore  poetry  written  in  dramatic  form  has  not  been  listed.  After  this, 
the  poetic  drama  will  be  taken  up  by  a  special  section  of  the  Committee  and  will  be  listed  in 
a  group  by  itself. 

The  Lists  from  which  the  present  Syracuse  Reprint  has  been  made  show  a  number  of 
marked  characteristics.  In  technique  it  must  be  admitted  that  very  few  of  our  poets  show 
that  Greek  composure  and  calm  and  self-restraint  that  are  the  desire  of  the  world  in  art. 
We  are  a  tumultuous  and  voluminous  people  and  our  poetry  shows  it.  The  social  spirit 
puts  its  mark  on  our  poetry.  We  chastise  ourselves  and  we  repent  tremendously.  It  must 
be  that  we  improve  and  future  critics,  perhaps,  will  find  this  out.  Our  list  is  remarkable  for 
the  large  number  of  professional  people  therein — teachers  and  men  of  active  life.  The 
university,  it  seems,  in  America  does  not  debar  an  instructor  from  poetic  hours.  The  large 
number  of  arrived  and  promising  women  poets  will  also  be  noted.  To  these  technique  is 
vividly  precious,  while  they  also  contribute  something  that  would  have  been  forever  unsaid 
had  they  remained  forever  silent.  The  poets  of  this  country  have  responded  to  the  mighty 
call  of  the  World  War  J  the  experienced  poets  have  found  new  inspiration  and  the  young 
poets  have  been  forced  to  eayger  expression  almost  before  their  time.  There  is  a  sweep  of 
idealism,  of  spirituality  through  the  poetic  realm ;  religious  faith  is  being  expressed  in  new 
modes ;  patriotism  is  exalted ;  world  brotherhood  and  internationalism  are  to  the  fore ;  the 
new  democracy  is  shining  into  the  eyes  of  the  young  poets,  and  they  are  helping  to  make 
the  world  over. 

Among  the  things  these  Lists  do  not  to  any  great  extent  show  are  these.  First,  a  group 
of  poets  of  the  "vernacular"  variety,  singing  the  songs  of  the  plains  and  the  canyons,  the  dug- 
out and  the  ranch.  Neihardt  has  discovered  the  pioneer  life  as  material  for  narrative  verse, 
and  Knibbs  (like  Service,  the  Canadian)  touches  the  cowboy  and  miner.  The  omission  of 
most  of  the  poets  of  this  group  is  because  they  so  seldom  reach  the  height  of  true  art.  But 
vast  possibilities  lie  awaiting  our  poets'  efforts  in  this  field.  Another  omission  concerns  the 
so-called  Free  Verse  or  Imagist  group.  The  Poetry  Society  makes  no  bars  against  any 
group  or  kind  as  such;  but  as  yet  the  Committee  have  found  but  little  among  the  Free 
Versists,  Imagists  and  Semi-prose  writers  that,  in  their  opinion,  shows  that  rare  and  delicate 
fragrance,  that  Greek  finality,  that  all-conquering  charm,  that  enlivening  of  the  spirit,  that 
are  essential  to  real  poetry.  But  poetry  is  poetry,  whatever  form  it  takes,  and  therefore 
they  preserve  a  catholic  attitude  and  wait.  Meantime  all  sorts  are  represented  by  certain 
volumes  in  the  List.  If,  ten  years  later,  we  should  be  so  fortunate  as  to  make  another  Syracuse 
Reprint,  we  should  certainly  have  within  its  scope  some  vast  enlightenments  as  to  our  social 
complex,  some  noble  enlargement  of  spirit,  and  an  amazing  influx  of  imagery  freshly  minted 
in  the  new  life  of  the  Republic.  We  should  find  also  contributions  from  hundreds  of  new- 
comers who  have  adopted  our  nation  for  their  own,  giving  of  their  treasures  of  thought  and 
imagery ;  and  we  should  have  mastered  a  sensitive,  melodious,  and  DeBussy-like  technique, 
undissipated  by  the  artistic  tumult  that  sometimes  seems  to  threaten  our  sacred  standards 
but  which  when  it  passes  will  surely  leave  enrichment  in  its  wake. 

M.  F.  C. 


EIGHTY-SEVEN   POETS 


Babcock,  Edwina  Stanton 

Greek   Wayfarers Putnam 

The  Flying  Parliament White 

In  her  first  volume,  themes  of  present-day  Greece; 
in  her  second,  today  and  the  War.  One  of  the 
younger  poets  and   very  promising. 

THE  LITTLE  SHADE. 

No  longer  that  grey  visage  fix, 

Charon, 
Asking  me  how  I  come  to  mix 
With  this  pale  boat-load  on  the  Styx, 

Charon. 

I  am  so  very  small  a  Shade, 

Charon, 
Holding  the  vase  my  father  made 
And  toys  of   silver  all  inlaid, 

Charon. 

Ferry  me  to  the  golden  trees, 

Charon, 
To  isles  of  childish  play  and  ease 
And  baths  of   dove-like   Pleiades, 

Charon. 

Ferry  me  to  the  azure  lands, 

Charon, 
Where  some  dead  mother  understands 
The    lifting   of   my   baby   hands, 
Charon. 
— In   Greek   Wayfarers,   by   Edwina   S.   Babcock,  cour- 
tesy of  G.  B.  Putnam's  Sons,  publishers. 

Bailey,  Liberty  Hyde 

Wind   and  Weather 


.Scribner 


From  the  study  of  an  encyclopaedic  man  comes  flut- 
tering a  sheaf  of  delicate  poems  characterized  by  cos- 
mic vision,  and  a  form  gracefully  free. 

From  ANCHORAGE. 
I  know  I  stand  upon  my  shore, 
I  know  I  look  through  open  door, 
I   know  that  spaces   stretch  before. 

Unto  my  solid  earth  I  cling, 
And   grip   myself  to   ev'rything 
That  to  my  conquest  I  can  bring. 

I   must  be  of  the  Fact  aware, 

Then  let  my  vision  outward  fare 

Nor  fear  whatever  may  be  there,—  '.'.,' 

As  wide  and  free  as  windows  are 
That  open  to  the  spaces  far 
Beyond  the  glint  of  any  star. 

Much  joy  it  is  that  we  may  be 
Some  part  of  plan  so  wonderly 
And  dream  the  dreams  of  mystery. 

Barker,  Elsa 

The    Frozen    Grail Duffield 

Spiritual  aspects  mean  much  to  this  poet;  in  meas- 
ures stately  and  controlled  she  reveals  her  soul's 
exaltations. 

WHEN  I  AM  DEAD  AND  SISTER  TO 
THE  DUST. 

When   I  am  dead  and   sister  to  the  dust; 
When    no   more   avidly    I   drink   the    wine 
Of   human   love;   when   the   pale    Proserpine 

Has  covered  me  with  poppies,  and  cold  rust 

lias  cut  my  lyre-strings,  and  the  sun  has  thrust 
Me  underground  to  nourish  the  world-vine, — 
Men   shall   discover   these   old   songs   of   mine, 

And    say:    This   woman    lived — as  poets   must! 


This  woman  lived  and  wore  Kfe  as  a  sword 
To  conquer  wisdom;  this  dead  woman  read 

In   the  sealed  Book  of  Love  and  underscored 

The  meanings.     Then  the  sails  of  faith  she  spread, 

And  faring  out  for  regions  unexplored, 

Went  singing  down  the  River  of  the  Dead. 

Bates,  Katherine  Lee  X" 

America,  the  Beautiful Crowell 

The  Retinue  and  Other  Poems Dutton 

Through  a  scholarly  medium  the  warmly  beating 
and  patriotic  heart  of  a  strong  woman  expresses 
itself.  The  stanza  is  taken  from  a  poem  that  bids 
fair  to  become  a  national  hymn. 

O  beautiful  for  spacious  skies, 

For  amber  waves  of  grain, 
For  purple  mountain  majesties 
Above  the  fruited  plain! 
|  America!     America! 

God  shed  His  grace  on  thee 
And  crown  thy  good  with  brotherhood 

From  sea  to  shining  sea! 
— First  stanza  of  America  the  Beautiful. 

Benet,  William  Rose 
Falconer  of  God  and 

Other  Poems Yale  Univ. 

Great  White  Wall Yale  Univ. 

Merchants  from  Cathay Century 

A  poet  who  writes  with  distinction,  frequently  in 
ballad  form,  and  with  great  variety  in  rhyme  and   in 

rhythm. 

From  THE  YOUNG  BROTHER. 
Lord  Christ,  who  strode  blithely  on  land  or  sea 
With  meekness  and  mettle  through  Galillee, 
Glad  for  the  rain  and  the  wind  and  the  sun, 
For  the  songs  of  birds  and  bright  day  begun, 
Sanction  the  prayer  of  thy  youngest  one! 

— In  Merchants  from  Cathay. 

Braley,  Berton 

Songs  of  the  Workaday  World Doran 

The  laborer  finds  a  voice  in  the  poems  of  Berton 
Braley,  his  straightness  and  his  gameness,  his  pathos 
and  humor. 

From    THE   THINKER. 
Might  of  the  roaring  boiler, 

Force  of  the  engine's  thrust, 
Strength  of  the  sweating  toiler, 

Greatly  in  these   we  trust. 
But  back  of  them  stands  the  Schemer, 

The   Thinker  who   drives  things  through; 
Back  of  the  Job — the  Dreamer 

Who's  making  the  Dream  come  true! 

Branch,  Anna  Hempstead 

The  Heart  of  the  Road Houghton 

The  Shoes  that  Danced Houghton 

The  Rose  of  the  Wind Houghton 

"Of  titanic  imagination  and  chryselephantine 
speech;  she  might  have  been  Milton's  daughter,"  said 
Edwin  Markham.  Another  has  called  her,  because  of 
her  keen  social  feeling,  "the  Jane  Addams  of  poetry". 

From  NIMROD. 
I  rode  on  Revolutions  and  I  leaped 
From  mammoth  time  to  mammoth  time  I  clung 
To  gorgeous  wheels  of  cycles  and  was  whirled  forth 
From  them   into  mid  air.     I   sat  astride 
Event  and  guided  it.      Over  vast  plains 
I  drove  his  chariots  of  change. 

— In   The  Rose  of  the   Wind. 


Burnet,  Dana 

Poems Harpers 

A  poet  of  youth  and  with  the  Vision  ahead. 

WHO  DREAMS  SHALL  LIVE). 
Who  dreams  shall  live!     And  if  we  do  not  dream 
Then  we  shall  build  no  Temple  into  Time, 
Yon  dust  cloud,  whirling  slow  against  the  sun, 
Was  yesterday's  cathedral,  stirred  to  gold 
By  heedless  footsteps  of  a  passing  world. 

The  faiths  of  stone  and  steel  are  failed  of  proof; 

The  King  who  made  religion  of  a  Sword 

Passes,  and  is  forgotten  in  a  day. 

The  crown  he  wore  rots  as  a  lily's  root, 

The  rose  unfurls  her  banner  o'er  his  dust. 

(Copyright  by  Harper  &  Bros.) 

Burr,  Amelia  Josephine 

Life  and  Living Doran 

The  Silver  Trumpet Doran 

A  scul  that  surges  with  the  great  issues  of  life,  the 
struggles  that  make  history.  The  verse  shows  great 
command  of  technical  resources,  but  technique  is  not 
emphasized. 

PERSHING  AT  THE  TOMB  OF  LAFAYETTE. 

They    knew    they     were     fighting    our     war.     As    the 
months  grew  to  years 

Their    men    and    their    women    had    watched    through 
their  blood  and  their  tears 

For  a  sign  that  we  knew,  we  who  could  not  have  come 
to  be  free 

Without  France,  k>ng  ago.And  at  last  from  the  threat- 
ening sea 

The  stars  of  our  strength  on  the  eyes  of  their  weari- 
ness  rose 

And  he  stood  among  them,  the  sorrow-strong  hero  we 
chose 

To    carry    our    flag   to    the    tomb    of    that    Frenchman 
whose  name 

A    man    of    our    country    could    once    more    pronounce 
without    shame. 

What  crown  of  rich  words  would   he   set  for  all  time 
on  this  day? 

The  past  and  the  future  were  listening  what  he  would 
say — 

Only   this,   from   the   white-flaming   heart   of   a   passion 
austere, 

Only  this — ah,  but  France  understood!  "Lafayette,  we 
are  here." 

— In  The  Silver  Trumpet. 

Burton,  Richard 

Dumb  in  June Lothrop 

Lyrics  of  Brotherhood Lothrop 

Message  and  Melody Lothrop 

Poems  of  Earth's  Meaning Holt 

A  writer  of  kindly  verse  that  observes  all  of  the 
literary  conventions  of  thought  and  diction,  with  now 
and   then   a  very   poignant   line,   as   in 

THE   HUMAN    TOUCH. 
High  thoughts   and   noble   in   all    lands 
Help   me,   my   soul   is   fed   by   such. 
But  oh,  the  touch  of  lips  and  hands, 
The  human  touch! 

Warm,    vital,    close,    life's    symbols   dear, — 
These  need  I  most,  and  now  and   here. 

— In  Lyrics  of  Brotherhood. 

Bynner,  Witter 

The  New  World Macmillan 

Grenstone  Poems Stokes 

>  Embodying  in  his  beautiful  figure  of  Celia  the 
highest  and  best  elements  in  American  democracy,  he 
has  sung  in  both  rhymed  and  free  verse  of  a  wide- 
range  of  human  emotion. 

THE   MYSTIC. 
By   seven   vineyards  on   one   hill 

We  walked.     The  native  wire 
In  clusters  grew  beside  us  two, 

For  your  lips  and   for  mine, 

4 


When,     'Hark!"  you  said, — "Was  that  a  bell 
Or  a  bubbling  spring  we  heard?" 

But  I  was  wise  and  closed  my  eyes 
And  listened  to  a  bird; 

For  as  summer  leaves  are  bent  and  shake 

With  singers  passing  through, 
So  moves  in   me  continually 

The  winged  breath  of  you. 

You  tasted  from  a  single  vine 
And   took   from   that  your  fill — 

But  I  inclined  to  every  kind, 
All  seven  on  one  hill. 

— Grenstone   Poems. 

Carman,  Bliss 

Complete  Poems,  2  vols L.  C.  Page 

An  experienced  poet,  a  master  of  poetic  charm.  A 
voice  from  days  when  we  were  less  virile  and  stren- 
uous than  now. 

From   LORD   OF  MY  HEART'S   ELATION. 
Lord  of  my  heart's  elation, 
Spirit   of   things   unseen, 
Be  thou  my  aspiration 
Consuming  and   serene! 

Bear  up,  bear  out,   bear  onward, 
This  mortal  soul  alone, 
To   selfhood   or   oblivion, 
Incredibly   thine   own, — 

As  the  foamheads  are  loosened 
And   blown  along  the   sea, 
Or  sink  and   merge   forever 
In  that  which  bids  them  be. 

Be  thou    my  exaltation 
Or    fortitude    of    mien, 
Lord  of  the  woild's  elation, 
Thou  breath   of  things   unseen! 

Cawein,  Madison 

Poems:     Selected   ed MacmlHan 

The  Cup  of  Comus Cameo  Press 

Processions    of   children   now   visit   the   gardens   ail 
glades  beloved  by  this  poet.     Need  more  be  said? 
atmosphere  of  his  verse  must  be  crystalline,  the  mel- 
ody inevitable. 

From   OLD  HOMES. 
Old  homes  among  the  hills!   I   love  their  gardens; 
Their  old  rock  fences,  that  our  day  inherits; 
Their   doors,    round    which    the    great    trees    stand    like 

wardens; 
Their    paths,    down    which    the    shadows    march    like- 
spirits; 
Broad    doors    and    paths   that    reach    bird-haunted    gar- 
dens. 

Old  homes!  old  hearts!      Upon  my  soul  forever 
Their  peace  and  gladness  lie   like  tears  and   laughter; 
Like  love  they  touch  me,  through  the  years  that  sever. 
With  simple  faith;  like  friendship,  draw  me  after 
The   dreamy   patience   that   is   theirs   forever. 
— In    The    Poet,    the    Fool    and    the    Fairies — Pub.    by 
Small,  Maynard. 

Clark,  Charles  Badger 

Grass-grown  Trails .....Badger 

A  poet  of  the  far  middle-west  who  is  full  of  Amer- 
ican  spirit,   vivid   life,   and   real    opinions. 
From  MY  FATHER  AND  I. 
My  father  prayed  as  he  drew  a  bead  on  the  gravcoat?. 
Back   in   those   blazing   years    when    the    house    was 

divided. 
Bless   his   old  heart!     There  never   was  truer   nor 

kinder; 
Yet  he  prayed  while   hoping  the  ball   from   his   clumsy 

old  musket 
Might   thud   to   the   body    of   some   hot-eyed   yo.ing 

Southerner 
And    tumble   him   limp    in    the    mud    of    the    Yicksburg 

trenches. 


That  was  my  father,  serving  the  Lord  and  his  country, 

Praying   and   shooting  whole-heartedly, 

Never   a   doubt. 

And  now  what  about  me  in  my  own  day  of  battle? 

Could    I    put    my    prayers    behind    a    slim    Springfield 

bullet? 
Hardly,  except  to  mutter:   "Jesus,  we  part  here." 

Cleghorn,  Sarah  N. 

Portraits  and  Protests Holt 

A    poet    of    vigorous    protest     against    some     social 
bands.     A  strong  mind  and  a  good  contriver  of  verse. 
From   JUDGE;    ME,    O    LORD! 

If   I   had   been   in   Palestine 

A    p<,or   disciple    I    had    been. 

I   had  not  risked  my  purse  or   limb 

All   to   forsake   and   follow   Him. 

P»ut   with  the   vast  and   wondering  throng 
I   too   had  stood  and   listened  long; 
I  too   had  felt  my  spirit  stirred 
When   the   Beatitudes  I   heard. 

Beside   the   cross    when    Mary    prayed 

A   great   way   off  I   too   had   stayed; 

Not   even   in  that   hour   had   dared, 

And    for  my   dying  Lord   declared; 

Put   beat   upon   my   craven   breast, 
And   loathed   my   coward   heart,   at   least, 
To  think  my  life  I  dared  not  stake 
And  beard  the  Romans  for  His  sake. 

Coates,  Florence  Earle 

Poems    Houghton 

Lyrics  of  Life Houghton 

Collected  Poems,  2  vols Houghton 

A   well-known  and  accepted  poet.      Sympathy,  purity 
and   tenderness  characterize  her  work. 
From  A  SONG. 
I  love,  and  thoughts  that  sometime  grieved, 

Still  well  remembered,  grieve  not  me; 
From  all  that  darkened  and  deceived 

Upsoars  my  spirit  free. 
For  soft  the  hours  repeat  one  story, 

Sings  the  sea  one  strain  divine, 
My  clouds  arise  aM  flushed  with  glory; 
I  love,  and  the  world  is  mine! 

— In  Lyrics  of  Life. 

Cone,  Helen  Gray 

The  Ride  to  the  Lady  and 

Other    Poems Houghton 

One    of    many    experienced    poets    whom    the    world 
war  aroused  to  finer  and  nobler  powers. 

From  A  CHANT  OF  LOVE  FOR   ENGLAND. 
Shatter  her  beauteous  breast  ye  may; 
The   Spirit  of   England  none  can  slay. 
Dash  the  bomb  on  the  dome  of  Paul's, — 
Deem  ye  the  fame  of  the  Admiral  falls? 
Pry  the  stone  from  the  chancel  floor, — 
Dream  ye  that   Shakespeare   shall   live  no   more? 

Bind  her,  grind  her,  burn  her  with  fire, 
Cast  her  ashes  into  the  sea,— 
She  shall  escape,  she  shall  aspire, 
She  shall1  arise  to  make  men  free: 
She  shall  arise  in  a  sacred  scorn, 
Lighting  the  lives  that  are  yet  unborn; 
Spirit   supernal,   Splendour  eternal, 
.     England! 
Pub.   by   Dutton.     First  pub.   in  Atlantic   Monthly. 

Conklin,  Grace  Hazard 

Afternoons   in  April Houghton 

A  strong  and  self-restrained  poet,  one  of  very  great 
promise  and  of  achievement  already. 

THE   NIGHTINGALES   OF    FLANDERS. 

T,e    rossignol   n'est   pas   mobilise. 

A    French    Soldier. 
The    nightingales    of    Flanders, 

They   have  not  gone  to  war. 
A    soldier    heard    them    singing 

Where   they   have   sung   before. 


The  earth  was  torn  and  quaking, 

The  sky  about  to-  fall, 
The    nightingales   of   Flanders 

They  minded  not  at  all. 

At  intervals  he  heard  them 
Between  the  guns,  he  said, 

Making  a  thrilling  music 
Above  the  listening  dead. 

Of   woodland   and  of   orchard 

And  roadside  tree  bereft, 
The   nightingales   of   Flanders 

Were  singing  "France  is  left!" 

Cox,  Eleanor  Rogers 

Singing  Fires  of  Erin Lane 

A  poet  of  the  Celtic  mists  and  magic. 

From  THE  COMING  OF  LUGH. 
A  magic  laughter  floods  and  fills 
The  song  of  spring — awakened  rills, 
And  unseen  harpers  walk  the  hills, 

Along  the  mountains'  purple  ledge 
The  Slice  arise  from  fern  and  sedge 
To  dance  upon  the  day-light's  edge. 

Doolittle,  Hilda  (Mrs.  Aldington,  "H.  D.") 
Sea    Garden Houghton 

One  of  the  most  important  in  the  so-called  Imagist 
group. 

OREAD. 
Whirl  up,  sea — 
Whirl    your    pointed    pines. 
Splash  your  great  pines 
On  our  rocks. 

Hurl  your  green  over  us — 
Cover  us  with  your  pools  of  fir. 

Daly,  Thomas  Augustine 

Carmina  Lane 

Madrigali    McKay 

S.ongs   of  Wedlock Philadelphia 

Poet  of  the  Italian  and  Irish  immigrant,  of  genial 
humor  and  wide  humanity;  also,  of  excellent  technique 
in  standardized  forms. 

MIA  CARLOTTA. 
Giuseppe,  da  barber,  he  gotta  da  cash 
He  gotta  da  clo'es  an'  da  bigga  mustache, 
He  gotta  da  seely  young  girls  for  da  "mash," 
But  notta — 
You  bat  my  life,  notta 
Carlotta 
I  gotta. 

— In   Carmina. 
KITTY'S  GRADUATION. 
Dublin  Alley  jisht  was  crazy,  jubilation  was  the  rule, 
Chewsday  week  whin  Kitty   Casey  won  the  honors  at 

the   school. 
Shure  the  neighbors  had  been  waiten,  all  impatient  of 

delay, 
For  to  see  her  graduatin'  on  that  most  important  day. 
Eddication  is  a  power,  an'  we  owned  with  one  accord 
Casey's  girl's  the  swatest  flower  ever  blossomed  in  the 

ward, 
Whin,  wid  dhress  white  as  the  daisy,  but  wid  cheeks 

that  shamed  the  rose, 
We   beheld   wee   Kitty   Casey   in   her   graduation   clo'es. 

— In   Carmina. 

Dargan,  Olive  Tilford 

Pathflower  and  Other  Poems Scribner 

The    Cycle's   Rim.... Scribner's 

A    facile    poet,    dividing    her    attentions    among    the 
lyric,   the   sonnet  and  the   poetic   drama.      Her  thought 
is  complex  and  elusive,  the  form  very  finished. 
ON  BOSWORTH  FIELD. 
Here,   Richard,   didst  thou  fall,  caparisoned 

With  kingdoms  of  thy   lust; 
And    here    wouldst   lie,   by    Fame's   bent   gleaners 
shunned, 


But  came  unto  thy  dust 

A    swaggerer,    perdy ! 
Who  cried  "A  horse,  a  horse !"  and  straight 
Thou  wert  abroad  on  kingly  feet 

To  tread  eternity 

— In  The  Pathflower. 

Davies,  Mary  Carolyn 

The  Drums  in  Our  Street Macmillan 

One  of  the  youngest  poe^s,  who   makes  vivid  tran- 
scripts of  scenes  and  moods,  in  the  inadvertent  meth- 
od, and  with  a  music  of  their  own. 
AMERICA  1917-18. 
A   nation   goes  adventuring! 

With  new  and  shining  mail, 
A   nation    goes   adventuring 
To  seek  the  Holy  Grail. 

A  nation   leaves   its  money-bags, 

Its  firesides  safe  and  warm, 
To   ride  about  the  windy  world 

And  keep  the  weak  from  harm. 

A   nation   goes  adventuring, 

With  heart  that  will  not  quail, 
God  grant  it,  on  some  hard-won  dawn, 

Sight  of  the   Holy   Grail. 

Davis,  Fannie  Stearns  (Mrs.  Gifford) 

Myself  and    I Macmillan 

Crack  o'  Dawn Macmillan 

The  poetry  of  Mrs.  Gifford  is  as  whimsical  as  it  is 
original;  as  feminine  as  it  is  free.  She  is  at  home  in 
standardized  forms. 

SOULS. 
My  soul  goes  clad  in  gorgeous  things, 

Scarlet  and  gold  and  blue, 
And  at  her  shoulder  sudden  wings 
Like  long  flames  flicker  through. 

And  she  is  swallow-fleet,  and  free 

From  mortal1  bonds  and  bars. 
She    laughs,    because    eternity 

Blossoms  for  her  with  stars! 

0  folk  who  scorn  my  stiff  gray  gown, 
My  dull  and  foolish  face, 

Can  ye  not  see  my  soul  flash  down, 
A   singing  flame  through   space? 

And  folk,  whose  earth-stained  looks  I  hate, 

Why  may  I  not  divine 
Your  souls,  that  must  be  passionate, 

Shining  and   swift,   as  mine? 

— In  Myself  and  I. 

Dickinson,  Emily 

The    Single    Hound Little 

"She  was  not  daily-bread.  She  was  star-dust." — 
Martha  Dickson  Bianchi. 

The  Sea  said  "Come"  to  the  Brook, 

The  Brook  said  "Let  me  grow!" 

The   Sea  said  "Then  you  will  be  a   Sea — 

1  want  a  Brook,   Come  now!" 

Erskine,  John 

The  Shadowed  Hour Lyric  Pub.  Co. 

Poet  of  eld  virtues  and  beauties  in  values  of  to- 
day. 

From    YOUTH    DYING. 
Ye  who   love  youth,  bring  tears  and   aching  hearts; 
For  now  the  dark  hour  calls  and  youth  departs, 
Where  the  red  scythe  swings_  close  o'er  crowded  fieMs 
And  stroke  by  stroke  the  vivid  moment  yields 
Our  bravest,   our  most  beautiful,   our  most   loved. 

I,et  them,  die  and  pass  and  be  forgot, 
Our  grey   die,   our   wrath,   but,   perish   not 
The  justice-loving,  the  crusading  heart, 
This  will  of  youth  to  take  the  righteous  part. 

Ficke,  Arthur  Davison 

The  Man  on  the  Hilltop Kennerley 

Sonnets  of  a  Portrait-Painter. ...Kennerley 


A  scholarly  poet,  seeking  his  subjects  in  many 
places  and  expressing  himself  with  tempered  orig- 
inality. 

TO   A  CHILD— TWENTY  YEARS  HENCE. 
You  shall  remember  dimly, 
Through  mists  of  far-away, 
Her  whom,  our  lips  set  grimly, 
We  carried  forth  to-day. 

But  when  in  days  hereafter, 
Unfolding  time   shall  bring 
Knowledge  of  love  and  laughter 
And  trust  and  triumphing, — 

Then  from  some  face  the  fairest, 
From  some  most  joyous  breast, 
Garner  what  there   is  rarest 
And  happiest  and  best. 

**■»*» 

And   all   the   mists   shall   perish 
That  have  between  you  moved. 
You  shall  see  her  you  cherish; 
And  love,  as  we  have  loved. 

— In   The  Man   on  the  Hilltop. 

Fletcher,  John  Gould 

Goblins  and  Pagodas Houghton 

Japanese  Prints Four  Seas 

A  distinguished  representative  of  the  Imagist  group 
of  poets, — and  a  poet,  wherever  he  is  classed ! 

From   BLUE   SYMPHONY. 
O   old    pagodas  of   my    soul,   how   you    glittered   across 
green   trees! 
Blue  and  cool: 
Blue,  tremulously, 
Blow  faint  puffs  of  smoke 
Across   sombre  pools, 
And  damp  green  smell  of  rotted  wood: 
And  a  heron  that  cries  from  out  the  water. 
— In   Goblins  and  Pagodas. 

Foster,  Jeanne  Robert 

Neighbors  of  Yesterday.. Sherman,  French 

A  poet  of  indelible  nativeness  who  seeks  to  trace 
the  soul  of  the  Adirondack  country-folk;  a  promising 
poet. 

From   THE   OLD   SITTING   ROOM. 
There  were  two  pictures  hung  upon  the  wall, 
One  was  called  "Mercy  at  the  Wicket  Gate," 
The  other,  "Contemplation";  and  beneath  this  one 
There  ran  the  stately  psalm:  "When  I  remember 
The  heavens — the  work  of  Thy  fingers, 
The  sun,  the  moon  and  the  stars, 
Which   Thou  has  ordained, 
What  is  man   Idiat  Thou  art  mindful  of  him, 
Or  the  Son  of  Man  that  Thou  visitest  him?" 

The  painted  clock  tick-tocks  the  quiet  hours, 
The  gay  rag  carpet  hides  the  knotty  floors, 

We  listen  'to  the  even  rise  and  fall 
Of  father's  voice  lost  in  a  mellow  tale 
Of  noble  wars  and  young  blood's  chivalry. 
Over  us  "Mercy  at  the  Wicket  Gate" 
And  "Contemplation"  look  out  to  the  stars 
Beyond  the  mountains,  and  we  are  at  peace 
With   God   and   man   in   our  old   sitting   room. 

Frost,   Robert 

North  of  Boston Holt 

Mountain    Interval Holt 

A  subtle  versifier  and  a  master  of  phychology.  His 
method  combines  objective  narrative  with  closely  in- 
dented spiritual  values.  His  line  defies  standards, 
and  breathes  a  new  mystic  music.     Is  this  a  prophecy? 

THE    PASTURE. 

I'm  going  out  to  clean  the  pasture  spring; 
I'll   only   stop  to   rake  the  leaves  away 
(And  wait  to  watch  the  water  clear,  I  may)  : 
I    sha'n't  be  gone  long. — You  come  too. 

T*m  going  out  to  fetch  the  little  calf 

That's  standing  by  the  mother.     It's  so  young, 


It  totters  when  she  licks  it  with  her  tongue. 
I  sha'n't  be  gone  long. — You  come  too. 

— In  North  of  Boston. 

Garrison,  Theodosia 

The  Joy  of  Life Kennerley 

The  Earth  Cry Kennerley 

The  Dreamers,  and  Other  Poems....Doran 

A  simple  homeiike-ness  (that  covers  a  fine  tech- 
nique) and  a  joyful  awareness  of  life,  together  with 
an  inspiring  sense  of  conquest,  distinguish  the  work 
of  this  poet. 

ONE  FIGHT  MORE. 
Now,  think  you,  Life,  I  am  defeated   quite? 

More  than  a  single  battle  shall  be  mine 
Before  I  yield  the  sword  and  give  the  sign 

And  turn,  a  crownless  outcast,  to  the  night. 
Wounded,  and  yet  unconquered  in  the  fight, 

I  wait  in  silence  till  the  day  may  shine 
Once  more  upon  my  strength,  and  all  the  line 
Of  your  defenses  break  before  my  might. 

Mine  be  the  warrior's  blood  who,  stricken  sore, 
Lies  in  his  quiet  chamber  till  he  hears 

Afar  the  clash  and  clang  of  arms,  and  knows 
The  cause  he  lived  for  calls  to  him  once  more 

And  straightway  rises,  whole  and  void_  of  fears, 
And  armed,  turns  him  singing  to  his  foes. 

—In  The  Earth  Cry. 

Griffith,  William 

Loves  and  Losses  of  Pierrot Shores 

City   Pastorals White 

Poet  of  airy  fancy  and  lilting  movement. 
RECONCILIATION. 
When  she  came  back,  my  heart  had  found 

The    secret   spring; 
The  gates  of  heaven  made  no  sound 

In  opening. 
Pawn — and  the  sable  butterflies 

So  black,  so  black! 
Were  as  a  rainbow  in  the   skies, 
When    she   came   back. 

— In  Love  and  Losses  of  Pierrot. 

Guiney,  Louise  Imogen 

Happy    Ending- Houghton 

A   poet  of  fine   moods   and   melodious   lines. 
WHEN    ON    THE   MARGE    OF    EVENING. 
When  on  the  marge  of  evening  the  last  bhie  light  is 
broken, 
An.i  winds  of  dreamy  odor  are  loosened  from  afar, 
Or    when    my    lattice    opens,    before    the    lark    hath 
spoken. 
On    dim    laburnum-blossoms,    and    morning's    dying 
star, 

I   think  of  thee    (oh  mine  the  more  if  other  eyes  be 

sleeping!) 

Whose    greater    noonday    splendors   the   many    share 

and    see, 

While  sacred  and  forever,  some  perfect  law  is  keeping 

The  late,  the  early  twilight,  alone  and  sweet  for  me. 

Guiterman,  Arthur 

The  Laughing  Muse Harper 

The   Mirthful  Lyre Harper 

A  poet  of  extraordinary  cleverness  and  command  of 
poetic  technique,  but  it  is  not  to  be  forgotten  that 
"Life"  (for  which  paper  he  frequently  writes)  is  not 
all   of   life  to   him. 

From   HILLS   IN   MIRTHFUL  LYRE. 
I   never  loved   your  plains! — 

Your    gentle    valleys, 
Your  drowsy  country  lanes 
And    pleached   alleys. 

I    want   my  hills! — the  trail 

That    scorns   the    hollow, — 
Up,  up  the  ragged  shale 

Where    few    will    follow, 


Up,   over  wooded   crest 

And  mossy  boulder 
With   strong   thigh,    heaving   chest, 

And  swinging   shoulder. 
*  *  *  *  * 

How  pure,  at  vesper-time, 

The    far   beHs   chiming — 
God,  give  me   hills  to  climb, 

And   strength    for   climbing! 
(Copyright   by   Harper   &    Bros.) 

Hagedorn,  Hermann 

Poems  and  Ballads Macmillan 

The   Great  Maze,  and  the  Heart 

of    Youth Macmillan 

Hymn  of  Free  Peoples Macmillan 

This  poet  was  already  highly  acknowledged  before 
the  gigantic  drama  of  the  World  War  awoke  him  to 
the  greatest  fervor  of  patriotism.  The  following  poem 
was  written  near  the  close  of  the  war. 

TO  THE  MAKERS  OF  SONG. 

Surely  the  time  for  making  songs  has  come 
Now  that  the  spring  is  in  the  air  again! 
Trees  blossom  though  men  bleed;  and  after  rain 

The  robins  hop;  and  soon  the  bees  will  hum. 

Long  was  the   winter,   long  our   Hps  were   dumb, 
Long   under    snow   our   loyal   dreams   have    lain. 

Surely  the  time  for  making   songs  has  come 
Now  that  the   Spring  is  in  the  air  again! 

The    Spring! — with    bugles    and    the    rumbling    cTrum ! 
Oh,    builders   of   high   music   out   of   pain, 
Now  is  the  time  with  singing  to  make  vain 

The  boast  of  kings  in  Pandemonium! 

Surely  the  time  for  making  songs  has  come! 

— In  Fifes  and  Drums.     Published  by   Doran. 

Johnson,  Robert  Underwood 

Poems Century    Co. 

Songs  of  War  and  Peace Bobbs-Merrill 

Poet  of  civic   righteousness   and  classic   phrase. 

From    EMBATTLED    FRANCE. 

And   when   beside  the   Marne's   red   tide — a  lioness   at 

bay — 
She  gave  September  unto  Mars  to  make  him  holiday, 
She  saved   with  hers  our  kindred  soil  three  thousand 

miles  away. 

***** 

And    when    Hate's   last   far  crop   is  part,   sown   broad- 
cast by  the  blind, 
The  memory  of  her  chivalry   shall   stir  in  humankind 
A  Jove  akin  to  bridal  love — the  passion  of  the  mind. 
— By  permission   from   Poems  of   War  and  Peace,   by 

Robert     Underwood     Johnson.      Published     by     thei 

Author. 

Jones,  Thomas  S.,  Jr. 

The  Rose-Jar Mosher 

The  Voice  in  the  Silence Mosher 

In  these  poems  the  essence  of  beauty  is  distilled 
from  the  flowers  of  sorrow  and  remembrance.  The 
very  fragrance  of  the  rose-jar  is  about  them,  the  grace 
of  Venice  glass  in  their  form. 

DUSK  AT  SEA. 
To-night  eternity  alone  is  near; 

The  sea,  the  sunset,  and  the  darkening  blue; 
Within  their  shelter  is  no  space  for  fear, 
Only  the  wonder  that  such  things  are  true. 

The  thought  of  you  is  like  the  dusk  at  sea — 
Space  and  wide  freedom  and  old  shores  left  far; 

The  shelter  of  a  vast  immensity 

Sealed  by   the   sunset   and   the   evening   star. 

—In   The   Voice  in  the  Silence. 

Kemp,  Harry 

The  Crv  of  Youth Kennerley 

A  poet  who  is  full  of  the  fighting  spirit,  but  occa- 
sionally has  a  mood  like  the  following. 


JOSES,  THE  BROTHER  OF  JESUS. 
Joses,  the  brother  of  Jesus,  plodded  from  day  to  day 
With  never  a  vision  within  him  to  glorify  his  clay; 
Joses,  the  brother  of  Jesus,   was  one  with  the   heavy 

clod, 
But   Christ   was  the   soul  of  rapture,  and  soared,   like 

the  lark,  with  God. 
Joses,    the    brother    of    Jesus,    was    only    a    worker    in 

wood, 
And   he   never   could    see   the   glory   that   Jesus,   his 

brother,  could. 
"Why  stays  he  not  in  the  work-shop?"  he  often  usea 

to   complain, 
"Sawing  the  Lebanon  cedar,  imparting  to  woods-  their 

stain? 
Why  must   he  go  thus  roaming,  forsaking  my  father's 

trade, 
While  hammers  are  busily  sounding,  and  there  is  gain 

to  be  made?" 
Thus    ran   the   mind   of   Joses,   apt   with    plummet  and 

rule, 
And    deeming   whoever   surpassed    him   either   a   knave 

or  a  foot, — 
For  he  never  walked  with  the  prophets  in  God's  great 

garden   of   bliss — 
And  of  all  mistakes  of  the  ages,  the  saddest,  methinks, 
was  this: 
To   have    such   a   brother   as  Jesus,   to   speak   with    him 

day  by  day, 
But  never  to  catch  the   vision   that   glorified   his  clay. 

Kilmer,  Joyce 

Trees  and  Other  Poems Doran 

Main  Street  and  Other  Poems Doran 

Memorial  Edition  of  Works Doran 

The  Great  War  found  one  of  its  most  shining 
marks  in  the  person  of  the  young  poet  whose  sincere 
and  unaffected  poems  had  a  wide  appeal. 

PRAYER  OF  A  SOLDIER  IN  FRANCE. 
My  shoulders  ache  beneath  my  pack, 
(Lie  easier,   Cross,  upon  His  back.) 

I   march   with   feet  that  burn   and   smart, 
(Tread,  Holy   Feet,  upon  my  heart.) 

Men   shout  at  me  who  may  not  speak, 

(They  scourged  Thy  back  and  smoke  Thy  cheek.) 

T  may  not  lift  a  hand  to  clear 
My   eyes  of  salty  drops  that  sear, 

Then    shall   my  fickle    soul  forget 
Thine  Agony  of  Bloody  Sweat?) 

My  rifle  hand  is  stiff  and  numb, 

(From  Thy  pierced  palm  red  rivers  come.) 

Lord,  Thou  didst  suffer  more  for  me 
Than  all  the  hosts  of  land  and  sea, 

So  let  me  render  back  again 

This  millionth  of  Thy  gift.     Amen. 
—Joyce  Kilmer.    Poems,  essays  and  letters  with  mem- 
oir by  Robert  C.  Holliday.  Copyrighted  1918.  George 
IT.   Doran  Co.,  publishers. 

Knowles,  Frederic  Lawrence 

Love  Triumphant Estes 

On    Life's   Stairway Estes 

Well-known  as  an  anthologist  as  well  as  a  poet  of 
distinction. 

ON   A  FLY-LEAF  OF  BURNS'   SONGS. 
These   are   the   best   of   him, 
Pathos   and   jest  of  him; 
Earth  holds  the  rest  of  him. 

Passions  were    strong  in   him, — 
Pardon  the  wrong  in  him; 
Hark  to  the  song  in  him! — 

Each    little    lyrical 
Grave  or  satirical 
Musical    miracle! 

— In   On  Life's  Stainvay. 


Lee,  Agnes 

The  Sharing Sherman,  French 

Spontaneity  and  delicacy  distinguish  the  work  of 
this  poet — an  essentially  feminine  poet  with  swift  in- 
terpretations of  beauty  and  life. 

PEACE. 
Suddenly  bells  and  flags! 
Suddenly — door  to  door, 
Tidings!     Can  we  believe, 
We  who  were  used  to  war? 

Soon  where  the  shrapnel  fell 
Petals  shall  wake  and  stir. 
Look — she  is  here,  she  lives! 
Beauty  has  died  for  her. 
— Printed  in  "Poetry,"  a  magazine  of  verse,  Dec.  1918. 

Le  Gallienne,  Richard 

New  Poems Lane 

The   Lonely  Dancer Lane 

A  poet  voicing  the  heart  of  the  evanescent  and  the 
eternal  pathos  of  life.  His  satisfying  technique 
makes  us  wonder  whether  we  may  not  still  have  a 
Greek  among  us. 

TO    A    BIRD    AT    DAW.X. 

All   my    life   until   this  day, 

And  all  my   life  until   I  die — 

All  joy  and  sorrow  of  the  way, 

Seem   calling  yonder  in  the   sky; 

And    there    is    something   the    song   saith 

That   makes  me   unafraid   of   death. 

Voice  of  man's   heart  and  of   God's  sky — 
I!ut   O   you   make   so   deep  a  thing 
Of  joy,   I  dare  not  think  of  pain 
Until   I   hear   you    sing  again. 

— In  The  Lonely  Dancer. 

Lindsay,  Vachel 

General  William  Booth Macmillan 

The    Congo Macmillan 

The  Chinese  Nightingale Macmillan 

An  American  folk-poet  of  daring  originality  and 
magical    rhythmic   sense. 

THE   UNPARDONABLE   SIN. 
This  is  the  sin  against  the  Holy  Ghost: — 
To  speak  of  bloody  power  as  right  divine, 
And  call  on   God  to  guard  each  vile  chief's  house, 
And  for  such  chiefs,  turn  men  to  wolves  and  swine: — 

To  go  forth  killing  in  White  Mercy's  name, 
Making  the  trenches  stink  with  spattered  brains, 
Tearing  the  nerves  and  arteries  apart, 
Sowing  with  flesh  the  unreaped  golden  plains. 

In  any  Church's  name,  to  sack  fair  towns, 

And  turn  each  home  into  a  screaming  sty, 

To   make   the   little   children   fugitive, 

And  have  their  mothers  for  a  quick  death  cry, — 

This  is  the  sin  against  the  Holy  Ghost: 

This  is  the   sin  no  purging  can  atone: — 

To   send  forth   rapine   in  the   name  of   Christ: — 

To  set  the  face,  and  make  the  heart  a  stone. 

— In  The  Congo. 

Lowell,  Amy 

Sword  Blades  and  Poppy  Seed.Macmillan 
Men,  Women  and  Ghosts Macmillan 

A  consistent  and  brilliant  Imagist  with  an  exquisite 
sense  of  detail.  A  good  story-teller,  scenting  out 
dramatic   situations. 

HOAR    FROST. 
In   the  cloud-gray  mornings 
I    heard   the   herons   flying; 
And   when  I  came  into  my  garden, 
My    silken    outer-garment 
Trailed    over    withered    leaves. 


A  dried  leaf  crumbles  at  a  touch, 
But  I   have  seen  many  Autumns 
With    herons   blowing   like    smoke 
Across  the  sky. 
— From  Chinorseries.  Pub.  in  "Others"  for  July,  1916. 

Mackaye,  Percy 

Uriel  and  Other  Poems Macmillan 

The   Present  Hour Macmillan 

One  of  our  most  eminent  interpreters  of  American 
Kfe,  not  only  in  unusual  verse,  but  in  pageant  and 
poetic   drama. 

FRANCE. 
Half    artist   and    half    anchorite, 
Part  siren  and  part   Socrates, 
Her  face — alluring  and  yet  recondite — 
Smiled  through  her  salons  and  academies. 

lightly  she  wore  her  double  mask, 

Till  sudden,  at  war's  kindling  spark, 
Her  inmost   self,   in  shining  mail  and  casque, 
Blazed  to  the  world  her  single  soul — 

Jeanne    d' Arc ! 
— In   The  Present  Hour. 

Markham,  Edwin 

The  Shoes  of  Happiness Doubleday 

Lincoln  and  Other  Poems Doubleday 

A  poet  of  April  lightness  and  also  of  tempestuous 
power.  "The  world's  greatest  poet  of  the  social  pas- 
sion," said  Alfred  Russell  Wallace.  As  to  form,  he  is 
master  of  an  art  that  conceals  art. 

OUTWITTED. 
He   drew  a   circle   that   shut   me  out — 
Heretic,  rebel,  a  thing  to  flout. 
But  Love  and  I  had  the  wit  to  win: 
We  drew  a  circle  that  took  him  in. 

— In    The   Shoes  of  Happiness. 
From    THE   ANGELUS. 
God  is  more  pleased  by  some  sweet  human  use 
Than  by  the  learned  book  of  the  recluse; 
Sweeter   are    comrade   kindnesses   to    Him 
Than  the  high   harpings  of  the   Seraphim; 
More  than  white   incense  circling  to  the  dome 
Is  a  fieM  well-furrowed,  or  a  nail  sent  home. 
More  than  the   hallelujahs  of  the  choirs 
Or  hushed   adorings  by  the   altar  fires, 
Is  a  loaf  well  kneaded,  or  a  room  swept  clean 
With  light-heart  love  thaat  finds  no  labor  mean. 
— In  Lincoln  and  Other  Poems. 

Masters,  Edgar  Lee 

Spoon  River  Anthology Macmillan 

The   Great  Valley Macmillan 

Toward  the  Gulf Macmillan 

An  astute  observer  whose  habitual  satire  is  some- 
times touched  with  the  white  fire  of  faith  and  ecstasy. 
A  chronicler  of  the  middle-west  American  small  town, 
powerfully  emphasizing  the  harshest   features. 

ANNE   RUTLEDGE. 
Out   of   me   unworthy   and   unknown 
The  vibrations  of  deathless  music; 
"With   malice  toward  none,   with   charity   for   all." 
Out  of  me  the  forgiveness  of  mil'lions  towards  millions, 
And   the   beneficent   face   of  a  nation 
Shining  with  justice  and  truth. 

I  am  Anne  Rutledge  who  sleep  beneath  these  weeds, 
Beloved  in   life  of  Abraham  Lincoln, 
Wedded  to  him,   not  through  union, 
But  through  separation. 
Bloom  forever,  O  Republic, 
From  the  dust  of  my  bosom! 

— In   Spoon  River  Anthology. 

Mifflin,  Lloyd 

Complete   Sonnets Oxford 

The  Slopes  of  Helicon Estes 

The  Fields  of  Dawn Oxford 

A  very  expert'  sonneteer.  Poet  of  ordered  move- 
ment  and   calm    outlook. 


From    EPIGAEA. 

April  is  coming  and  I  surely  hear 

On  all  the  mossy  slopes  and  woodland   dells, 
That  elfin  music,   delicately   clear, 

From  coral  clusters  of  arbutus  bells. 
Precious  thou  wast  in  days  that  young  love  gave 

When  sight  of  thee  could  make  my  bosom  thrill; 
Oh,  might  some  friend  but  plant  thee  on  my  grave 

To  tell  the  woods,  thy  lover  loves  thee  still1. 

— In    The   Slopes   of  Helican. 

Millay,  Edna  St.  Vincent 

Renascence  and  Other  Poems. .Kennerley 

Lovers  of  poetry  will  watch  with  interest  the  work 
of  this  young  author  whose  first  book  struck  so  strong 
and  original  a  note. 

From  WHEN  THE  YEAR  GROWS  OLD. 
Oh,  beautiful  at  nightfall 

The   soft   spitting   snow! 
And  beautiful  the  bare  boughs 

Rubbing  to   and   fro! 

But   the    roaring   of   the   fire, 

And  the  warmth  of  fur, 
And  the  boiling  of  the  kettle 

Were  beautiful  to  her! 

I  cannot  but  remember 

When  the  year  grows  old — 

October — November — 

How  she  disliked  the  cold ! 

Mitchell,  Ruth  Comfort 
The  Night  Court  and 

Other  Poems Century 

A  poet  who  presents  in  vivid  verse  varying  phases 
of  American  life  of  to-day. 

POST-GRADUATE. 
If  she  had  lived  a  little  while  ago 
She   would   be   wearing  tranquil   caps  of   lace; 
Withdrawing  gently  to  her  quiet  place, 
Sighing,  remotely,  at  the  world's  drab     woe. 
To-day  she  fronts  it  squarely  as  her  foe, 
Not  from  the  inglenook  but  face  to  face, 
Marching  to  meet  it,  stoutly  keeping  pace, 
Armored  in  wisdom,  strong  to  overthrow. 

This  is  the  world  she  always  understood: 

The  world  in  terms  of  home.     Set  free  to  flower 

(Unhindered  now,  her  own  brood  long  a-wing) 

In    broader,    air-embracing    motherhood; 

Calm  with  the  years  and  ardent  with  the  hour, — 

Indian  Summer  with  the  urge  of  Spring. 

— In  The  Night  Court  and  Other  Verse. 

Monroe,  Harriet 

You  and  I Macmillan 

Miss  Monroe  had  already  established  herself  as  a 
poet  in  classic  form  before  she  founded  her  magazine 
Poetry — a  Magazine  of  Verse.  The  following  is  one 
of  her- most  charming  bits  of  short  verse. 

LOVE   SONG. 
I  love  my  life,  but  not  too  well 

To  give  it  to  thee  like  a  flower, 
So  it  may  pleasure  thee  to  dwell 

Deep  in   its  perfume  but  an  hour. 
I   love  my  life,  but  not  too   well. 

I  love  my  life,  but  not  too  well 
To   sing   it   note   by   note   away, 

So  to  thy  soul  the  song  may  terl 
The  beauty  of  the  desolate  day. 

I  love  my  life,  but  not  too  well. 

I  love  my  life,  but  not  too  well 
To  cast  it  like  a  cloak  on  thine, 

Against  the  storms  that  sound  and  swell 
Between  thy  lonely  heart  and  mine. 

I   love  my   life,   but  not  too   well. 

— In  You  and  I. 


Moody,  William  Vaughn 

Complete  Poems  and  Dramas, 
2  vols Houghton 

A  poet  o£  tofty  imagination,  imperishable  beauty  of 
expression,  spirituality,  intense  patriotism,  deep-dyed 
Americanism.  One  of  the  brightest  stars  in  America's 
crown   of  poets. 

From  THE  DAGUERROTYPE. 
I  think  these  eyes  foresee, 
Now  in  their  unawakened  time, 
Their  mother's  pride  in  me, 
And  dream  even  now,  unconsciously, 
Upon  each  soaring  peak  and  sky-hung  lea 
You  pictured  I  should  climb. 
Broken  premonitions  come, 
Shapes,  gestures  visionary, 
Not  as  once  to  maiden  Mary 
The  manifest  angel  with  fresh  lilies  came 
Intelligibly   calling  her  by  name; 
But   vanishingly,   dumb, 
Thwarted   and  bright  and  wild, 
As  heralding  a  sin-defiled 

Earth-cumbered,    blood-begotten,    passionate    man-child, 
Who  yet  should  be  a  trump  of  mighty  caH 
lilown  in  the  gates  of  evil  kings 
To  make  them  fall; 

Who  yet  should  be  a  sword  of  flame  before 
The  soul's  inviolate  door 
To  beat  away  the  clang  of  hellish  wings; 
Who  yet  should  be  a  lyre 
Of  high  unquenchable  desire 
In  the  day  of  little  things. 
— By  special  arrangement  with  Houghton-Mifflin  Co. 

Morgan,  Angela 

The  Hour  Has  Struck....The  Aster  Press 

Utterance Baker  and  Taylor 

Forward,  March ! Lane 

Impassioned  aspirations,  flaming  in  verse  that  flows 
like    streams    of    lava.     Her    subjects    move    from    the 
highest    spheres    to    the    kitchen    stairs.     The    form    is 
loosely  constructed,  but  is  not  "free  verse." 
From    KINSHIP. 
I   am  aware, 
As  I  go  commonly  sweeping  the   stair, 
Doing   my   part   of  the   every-day   care — 
Human  and  simple  my  lot  and  my  share — 
T  am  aware  of  a  marvelous  thing: 
Voices  that  murmur  and  ethers  that  ring 
In  the  far  stellar  spaces  where  cherubim  sing. 
I  am  aware  of  the  passion  that  pours 
Down    the    channels   of   fire   through    Infinity's    doors; 
Forces  terrific,  with  melody  shod, 
Music  that  mates  with  the  pulses  of   God. 
I  am  aware  of  the  glory  that  runs 
From  the  core  of  myself  to  the  core  of  the  suns. 
Bound  to  the  stars  by  invisible  chains, 
Blaze  of  eternity  now  in  my  veins, 
Seeing  the   rush  of  ethereal  rains 
IT  ere  in  the  midst  of  the  every-day  air — - 
I   am  aware. 

— In   The  Hour  Has  Struck. 

Neihardt,  John  G. 

The  Stranger  at  the  Gate Kennerley 

The  Song  of  Hugh  Glass Macmillan 

The   Quest... Macmillan 

A  poet  of  eager  and  aspiring  themes  and  good 
workmanship.  One  of  the  first  to  avail  himself  of  the 
epic  theme  of  American  pioneering. 

Onward,   outward   I  must  go 

Where  the  mighty  currents  flow. 

Home  is  anywhere  for  me 

On  this  purple-tented  sea. 

Star  and  Wind  and  Sun  my  brothers, 

Ocean  one  of  many  mothers. 

Onward  under  sun   and   star 

Where  the  weird  adventures  are! 

Never  port  shall  lift  for  me — 

I  am  Wind  and  Sky  and  Sea! 

— In   The  Quest. 

Norton,  Grace  Fallow 


The  Sister  of  the  Wind Houghton 

Little  Grey  Songs  from  St.  Joseph's 

Houghton 
Roads  Houghton 

The  accent  of  Miss  Norton's  poetry  is  sad,  poignant 
and  beautiful  as  a  rainy  day  is  beautiful. 

There's  one  that  I  once  loved  so  much 

I  am  no  more  the  same, 
I  give  thanks  for  that  transforming  touch. 
I  tell  you  not  his  name. 

He  has  become  a  sign  to  me 

For  flowers  and  for  fire. 
For  song  he  is  a  sign  to  me 

And  for  the  broken  lyre. 

— In  Roads. 

Oppenheim,  James 

Songs  of  the  New  Age Century  Co. 

War  and  Laughter Century  Co. 

Book  of  Self Knopf 

One  voice  from  the  philosophical  idealism  of  our 
time.  The  forms  he  chooses  are  of  the  so-called  Free 
Verse   style. 

THE   LONELY   CHILD. 
Do    you    think,    my    boy,    that    when    I    put    my    arms 

around  you, 
To   still  your  fears, 

That    it    is    I    that    conquer   the    dark    and    the    lonely 
night? 

.My  arms  seem  to  wrap  love  about  you, 

As  your  Kttle  heart  fluttering  at  my  breast 

Throbs  love  through  me    .... 

But,  dear  one,  it  is  not  your  father: 
Other  arms  are  about  you,  drawing  you  near, 
And  drawing  the  Earth  near,  and  the  Night  near, 
And  your  father  near    .... 

Some  day  you  shall  lie  alone  at  nights, 

As  now  your  father  lies: 

And    in    those    arms,    as    a    leaf    fallen    on    a    tranquil 

stream, 
Drift  into  dreams  and  healing  sleep. 

— In  Songs  of  the  New  Age. 

O'Sheel,  Shaemus 

The  Blossomy  Bough Franklin  Press 

The  Light  Feet  of  Goats.... Franklin  Press 

A  light  touch  and  a  delicate  mood  are  characteris- 
tics of  this  poet.     A  weaver  of  verbal  charms. 

HE   WHOM   A   DREAM    HATH    POSSESSED. 
He  whom  a  dream  hath  possessed  knoweth  no  more  of 
doubting, 
For  mist   and  the  blowing  of  winds  and  the  mouth- 
ing  of   words   he    scorns; 
Not    the    sinuous    speech    of    school    he    hears,    but    a 
knightly    shouting, 
And  never  comes  darkness  down,  yet  he  greeteth   a 
million    scorns. 

Peabody,  Josephine  Preston  (Mrs.  Marks) 

The  Singing  Leaves Houghton 

The  Singing  Man Houghton 

Harvest   Moon Houghton 

A  flaming  idealist  with  a  happy  turn  for  allegory 
and  illustration.  She  has  a  delicate,  charming  way  of 
her  own;  the  technique  is  exquisitely  individual.  Bet- 
ter known,  perhaps,  for  her  poetic  dramas. 

From   YOU,   FOUR  WALLS,   W.ALL   NOT   IN    MY 
HEART. 

You,  Four  Walls, 

Wall  not   in  my  heart! 
When  the  lovely  night-time  falls 

All    so    wclcomely. 
Blinding,   sweet   hearthfire, 
Light  of  heart's  desire, 

Blind  not,  blind   not  me! 
Unto  them  that  weep  apart, — 


10 


While  you  glow,  within, 
Wreckt,  despairing  kin, — 

Dark  with  misery: 
— Do  not  blind  my  heart! 

— In    The   Singing    Man. 

Piper,  Edward  Ford 

Barbed  Wire  and  Other 
Poems Midland  Press 

One  of  the  vital  vernacular  poets  of  the  Middle 
West  and  the  plains. 

From    THE    PLAINSMEN. 
Men  of  the  older,  gentler  soil1, 

Loving  the  things  that  their  fathers  wrought — 
Worn  old  fields  of  their  fathers'  toil, 

Scarred   old   hills  where  their  fathers  fought — 
Loving  their  land  for  each  ancient  trace, 
[.ike  a  mother  dear  for  her  wrinkled  face, 

Such  as  they  never  can  understand 

The   way   we  have  loved  you,  young,   young  land! 

Born   of  a  free, world-wandering  race, 

Little   we   yearned   o'er  an   oft-turned   sod. 

What   did  we  care  for  the  fathers'  place, 
Having  ours  fresh  from  the  hand  of  God? 

Who  feared  the  strangeness  or  wiles  of  you 

When  from  the  un reckoned  miles  of  you 
Thrilling  the  wind  with  a  sweet  command, 
Youth  unto  youth  catted,  young,  young  land? 

Reese,  Lizette  Woodworth 

A   Quiet   Road Mosher 

A  Wayside  Lute Mosher 

A  Handful  of  Lavender Mosher 

The  maker  of  one  faultless  sonnet  and  many  lovely 
lyrics.  An  almost  impeccable  technician;  not  wide  in 
appeal,  but  poignant  in  effects. 

THAT  DAY  YOU  CAME). 
As  after  song  some  snatch  of  tune 

Lurks  still  in  grass  or  bough, 

So,  somewhat  of  the  end  o'  June 

l.urks  in  each  weather  now. 

The  young  year  sets  the  buds  astir, 

The  old  year  strips  the  trees; 
But  ever  in  my  lavender 

I  hear  the  brawling  bees. 

— In  A  Handful  of  Lavender. 

Rice,  Cale  Young 

Collected  Plays  and  Poems, 

2    vols Doubleday 

Trails  Sunward Century 

Songs  to  A.  H.  R Century 

A  voluminous  poet  who  celebrates  the  meanings  and 
memories    of   many    lands    and    sometimes    reaches   the 
height  of  a  poignant  appeal,  as  in  the  poem  below. 
BY  THE  CH'EN  GATE. 
At  dusk  as  wiM  geese  winged  their  aery  way 

Upon  the  sunset  over  proud  Peking, 
To  where,  darker  than  jade,  the  mountains  lay, 
Set  in  the  misty  gold  of  dying  day, 
I  stood  upon  the  mighty  Tartar  wall 

By  the  great-towered  gate,  the  Ch'en,  and  felt 
The  yellow  myriads  move  to  it  and  melt  , 
As  in  some  opiate  sleep's  imagining. 
And  slowly  through  there  came  a  caravan 
Of  swinging  camels  out  of  far  Thibet, 
Upon  their  tawny  flanks  the  foam  still  wet 
And   in  their   eyes  the   desert's  ancient   span. 

What  dreams  they  bore  to  me  I  now  forget, 
But  through  me  rang  the  name  of  Kubla  Khan. 
■ — From   Collected  Plays  and  Poems. 

Riley,  James  Whitcomb 

Complete    Poems Bobbs-Merrill 

The  poet  well-beloved.  Best  known  for  his  poems 
of  child  life  in  Hoosier  dialect. 

A  PARTING  GUEST. 
What  delightful  hosts  are  they — 
Life   and   Love! 


Lingeringly  I  turn  away,        • 

This  late  hour,  yet  glad  enough 
They  have  not  withheld  from  me 

Their  high  hospitality. 
So,  with  face  lit  with  delight 

And  all  gratitude,  I  stay 

Yet  to  press  their  hands  and  say, 
"Thanks. — So  fine  a  time!     Good  night." 

Rittenhouse,  Jessie  B.  — 

The  Door  of  Dreams Houghton 

In  flawless  verse  and  the  purest  spirit,  she  touches 
various  love-themes.     Each  poem  is  a  well-carved  gem.     ' 
DEBTS. 
My  debt  to  you,  Beloved, 

Is  one  I  cannot  pay 
In  any  coin  of  any  realm 
On  any  reckoning  day; 

For  where  is  he  shall  figure 

The  debt,  when  all  is  said, 
To  one  who  makes  you  dream  again 

When  all  the  dreams  were  dead? 

Or  where  is  the  appraiser 

Who  shall  the  claim  compute 
Of  one  who  makes  you  sing  again 

When  all  the  songs  were  mute? 

Robinson,  Corinne  Roosevelt 

One  Woman  to  Another Scribner 

The  earnest  heart  and  full  mind  are  expressed  in 
this  poetry. 

THE  POET. 

The  Poet  should  be  one  who  sings, 

Whose    rhythmic   music    lilts   and    rings 

With  images  inspired; 

And  he  must  be  the  Seer  who  sees 

Beyond  his  utmost  melodies, 

Until,  with  soul  afired, 

He  brings  the  waiting  world  the  word 

That  only  Seer  and  Singer  heard! 
— In   One   Woman  to  Another,  and  Other  Poems. 
Copyright   by   Charles    Scribner's   Sons.     By   permis- 
sion of  the  publishers. 

Robinson,  Edwin  Arlington 

Children  of  the  Night Scribner    t 

The  Town  Down  the  River Scribner 

Merlin:  A  Poem Macmillan 

A  poet  characterized  by  brilliant  analysis  of  person- 
ality in  restrained  and  vital  poetry.  He  is  master  of 
a  cleverly  impeccable  blank  verse  which  is  rich  in 
subtle  philosophy.  He  has  been  called  an  American 
Browning. 

From   MERLIN:   A   POEM. 
The  Man  who  sees 
May  go  on  seeing  till  the  immortal  flame 
That    lights    and    lures    him    folds    him    in    its    heart, 
And  leaves  of  what  there  was  of  him  to  die 
An  atom  of  inhospitable  dust 
That  love  and  hate  alike  must  hide  away. 

Sandberg,  Carl 

Chicago  Poems Holt 

Cornhuskers  Holt 

A  valorous  realist  who  makes  a  swaggering  adven- 
ture of  poetry,  but  cannot  help  being  tremendously 
vital  and  often  very  musical.  A  clarion  voice  from 
Chicago.  Sandburg's  social  spirit  is  a  living  fire;  see, 
for  instance,  the  swift  stroke  from  the  shoulder  in  the 
poem    below. 

THEY  WILL  SAY 
Of  my  city  the  worst  that  men  will  ever  say  is  this: 
You   took   little  children   away  from   the   sun   and   the 

dew, 
And  the  glimmers  that  played  in  the  grass  under  the 

great   sky, 
And  the  reckless  rain;  you  put  them  between  walls, 
To  work,  broken  and  smothered,  for  bread  and  wages. 
To  eat  dust  in  their  throats  and  die  empty-hearted, 
For  a  little  handful  of  pay  on  a  few  Saturdav  nights. 
— In    Chicago    Poems. 


11 


Schauffler,  Robert  Haven 

Scum  o'  the  Earth Houghton 

A  poet  of  modern,  democratic  American  verse. 
From   SCUM   O'   THE   EARTH. 
Newcomers  all  from  the  eastern  seas, 
Help  us  incarnate  dreams  like  these. 
Forget  and  forgive  that  we  did  you  wrong. 
Help  us  to  father  a  nation,  strong 
In  the  comradeship  of  an  equal  birth, 
In  the  wealth  of  the  richest  bloods  on  earth. 

Scollard,  Clinton 

Poems Houghton 

The  Vale  of  Shadows  and  Other 

Verses  of  the  Great  War White 

Ballads,  Romantic  and  Patriotic White 

A  lcng  career  in  verse-making  gives  Mr.   Scollard  a 

great  command  of  the  resources  of  poetry. 
GENNESAR. 

Bright  'neath  the   Syrian   sun,   dim    'neath  the    Syrian 
star, 

Thus  lieth  Galilee's  sea,  sapphirine  lake  Gennesar; 

Girdled  by  mourrtains  that  range  purple  and  proud  to 

their  crests, 
Bearing  the  burden  of   dreams, — glamour  of   old, — on 

their  breasts. 

Just   one    white    glint   of    a    sail    dotting   the    brooding 

expanse; 
Beaches  that  sparkle  and  gleam,  ripples  that  darkle  and 

dance; 

Grandeur  and  beauty  and  peace  welded  year-long  into 

one 
Under  the  Syrian  star,  under  the  Syrian  sun! 

And  over  all  and  through  all  memories  sweet   of   TT is 

name, 
Kindling  the  past  with  their  right,  touching  the  future 

with  flame! 

— In  Lyrics  and  Legends  of  Christmas. 

Seeger,  Alan 

Poems  Scribner's 

A  singer  whom  battle  preserved  in  immortal  youth 
and  whose  songs  of  courage  and  love  gave  pr«  mise 
of  high  achievement. 

I   have  a  rendezvous  with   Death 

At  some  disputed  barricade, 

When   Spring  comes  back   with   rustling  shade 

And  apple-blossoms  fill   the  air — 

I  have  a  rendezvous  with  Death 

When    Spring   brings   back   blue   days   and    frur. 
— In    Poems   of    Alan    Seeger.     Copyright    by    Charles 
Scribner's    Sons.     By    permission    of    the    publishers. 

Shepard,  Odell 
I *  A   Lonely   Flute Houghton 

A   maker   of   quiet-toned,    well   finished   lvrics.      This 
poet's  flute  has  a  sweet  melody,  thin  and  delicate. 
EVENING  ROAD  SONG. 
It's  a  long  road  and  a  steep  road 

And  a  weary  road  to  climb. 
The  air  bites  chill  on  the  windy  hill. 
At  home  it  is  firelight  time. 

The    sunset   pales  .  .  .  along  the   vales 

The    cottage    candles    shine 
And  twinkle  through  the  early  dew. 

Thank  God  that  one  is  mine! 

And  dark  and  late  she'll  watch  and  wait 

Bevond  the  last  long  mile 
For  the  weary  beat  of  homing  feet 

With  her  wise  and  patient  smile. 

Smith,  Marion  Couthoy 

The  Final  Star White 

A  strong  spirit  and  a  patriotic  one  is  speaking  in 
this  book. 


From  OUR  FLAG  IN  FRANCE. 

Up  with  the  flag  in  France,  lads,  up  with  the  flag  in 
France! 

As  the  dawn-rays  rising  oversea,  so  be  its  bright  ad- 
vance ; 

The  dawn  rays  flaming  on  the  sea,  the  morning  round 
the  world — 

Long  and  dark  was  the  night  to  us,  while  the  stars  and 
stripes  were  furled! 

*  *  *  *    ,  * 

Fight  for  the  world's  defense,  lads,  as  your  fathers 
fought   before, 

For  truth  and  right  against  ruthless  might,  for  free- 
dom's cause  once  more! 

Though  the  way  be  long  and  the  hazard  strong,  for 
glory  or  mischance, 

Up  with  the  flag  in  France,  lads,  up  with  the  flag  in 
France ! 

Smith,  May  Riley 

Sometime  and  Other  Poems Dntton 

A    poet    beloved    for    a    few    beautiful    and    human 

poems. 

MARCH. 

In  the  dark  silence  of  her  chambers  low, 

March    works  out   sweeter  things   than    mortals   know. 

TTer  noiseless  looms  ply  on  with  busy  care, 
Weaving  the  fine  cloth  that  the  flowers  wear. 

She  sews  the  seams  in  violets'  queer  hood, 
And   paints  the  sweet  arbutus  of  the   wood. 

Out  of  a  bit  of  sky's  delicious  blue 

She  fashions  hvacinths,  and   harebells,  too. 

*  *  *  *  * 

Come,  early  risers!      Come,  anemone, 

Mv  pale  wind  flowers!   cheerily  calls  she. 

***** 

What   matter,   then,  that   wild   the   March-winds  blow? 
Bear  patiently  her  lingering  frost  and  snow! 

For  all  the  sweet  beginnings  of  the  spring 
Beneath  her  cold  brown  breast  lie  fluttering. 

Spicer,  Anne  Higginson 

The  Last  Crusade White 

A  poet  with  a  wide  range  of  thought  and  sympathy 
and   a  technique  adventurous  within   bounds. 
THE  HEART  OF  LINCOLN. 
Still  heart,  do  you  thrill,  heart? 

Heart,  do  you  beat  again? 
Thrill  and  beat  at  the  marching  feet 
Of  America's  young  men? 

Splendid  heart,  unended  heart, 
Heart  of  our  prayers  and  songs, 

Beat  from  the  dust,  as  well  you  must. 
At  the  injured  peoples'  wrongs. 

Weeping  heart,  unsleeping  heart, 
Somewhere  beyond  the  grave 

Do  you  not  throb  at  every  sob 
Wrung  from  a  fettered  slave? 

Oh  grave  heart,  and  brave  heart, 

Heart  of  our  Lincoln,  today 
Live  in  the  truth  and  the  splendid  youth 

Of  our  young  men  marching  away! 

Sterling,  George 

Testimony  of  the  Suns Robertson 

The  Wine  of  Wizardry Robertson 

Beyond  the  Breakers Robertson 

"Poet  of  antiquity,  infinity,  and  immensity;  of  trans- 
lunary  and  infra-mundane  imagination,"  says  F,d\vin 
Markham. 

From  THE   COMING   SINGER. 
The  Veil  before  the  Mystery  of  things 
Shall  stir  for  him  with  iris  and  with  light; 
Chaos  shall  have  no  terror  in  his  sight, 
NVr  earth  a  bond  to  chafe  his  urgent  wings. 
With  sandals  beaten   from  the  crowns  of  kings 


12 


Shall  he  tread  down  the  altars  of  their  night, 
And  stand  with  Silence  on  her  breathless  height 
To  hear  what  song  the  star  of  morning  sings. 

Teasdale,  Sara  S 

Rivers  to  the  Sea Macmillan 

Love  Songs Macmillan 

A  poet  of  flawless  technique  and  great  simplicity  of 
form;  she  uses  for  the  most  part  themes  of  love.      She 
flashes  forth  moods,  distilling  June  into  the  rose. 
WOOD  SONG. 
I  heard  a  wood  thrush  in  the  dusk 
Twirl  three  notes  and  make  a  star— 
My   heart   that   walked   with   bitterness 
Came  back  from  very  far. 

Three  shining  notes  were  all   he  had, 

»And  yet  they  made  a  starry  call — 
I  caught  life  back  against  my  breast 
And  kissed  it,  scars  and  all. 
— In  Love  Songs. 

Thomas,  Edith  M. 

A  Winter  Swallow Scribner 

Fair    Shadowland Houghton 

The  Inverted  Torch Houghton 

The  Flower  from  the  Ashes Mosher 

After  many  years  of  careful  practice  in  verse- 
making  and  the  publication  of  some  fifteen  volumes  of 
poetry,  Miss  Thomas  heard  the  call  of  the  World 
War.  Then,  in  her  hands,  "the  thing  became  a  trum- 
pet," to  sound  forth  the  meanings  of  the  era,  as  the 
poet-seer  saw  them. 

THE  VOICE   OF   THE  LAWS. 
This    from    that     soul    incorrupt    whom    Athens    had 

doomed  to  the  death, 
When     Crito    brought    promise    of    freedom:     "Vainly 

thou   spendest   thy   breath! 
Dost    remember    the    wild    Corybantes?    feel    they    the 

knife  or  the  rod? 
Heed  they   the   fierce   summer   sun,   the   frost,   or   win- 

ferly   flaws? — 
If  any  entreat  them,   they  answer,   'We  hear  but  the 

flutes  of  the  God!' 

"So  even  am  I,  O  my   Crito!   Thou  pleadest  a   losing 

cause! 
Thy  words  are  as   sound   without   import — I   hear   but 

the  Voice  of  the  haws, 
And,  know  thou!  the  Voice  of  the  Laws  is  to   me  as 

the   flutes  of  the   God." 

Thus  spake  that  soul  incorrupt.     And   wherever,   since 

hemlock   was   quaffed, 
A  man   has   stood  forth  without  fear — has  chosen   the 

darH  deep  draught — 
Has  taken  the  lone  one  way,  nor  the  path  of  dishonor 

has  trod, 
Behold!  he,  too,  hears  but  the  Voice  of  the  Laws,  the 

flutes  of  the  God. 

— In   The  Dancers.    Pub.  by  Badger. 

Torrence,  Ridgely 

The  House  of  a  Hundred  Lights 

Small,  Maynard 

In  non-dramatic  form  he  is  not  a  voluminous  writer, 
but  everywhere  is  one  of  radiant  quality.  He  never 
writes  a"  line  that  is  not  an  exquisite  distillation  of 
poetry. 

EVENSONG. 
Beauty  calls  and  gives  no  warning, 
Shadows  rise  and  wander  on  the  day, 
In  the  twilight,  in  the  quiet  evening 
We  shall  rise  and  smile  and  go  away. 
Over  the  falling  leaves 
Freezes  the  sky,      . 
It  is  the  season  grieves, 
Not  you,   not  I. 
i  All  our  springtime,  all  our  summers 
We  have  kept  the  longing  warm  within, 
Now  we  leave  the  after-comers 
To  attain  the  dreams  we  did  not  win. 


Oh  we  wakened,  Sweet,  and  had  our  birth, 

And  that's  the  end  of  earth. 

And  we  1  ave  toiled  and  laughed  and  found  the  light 

And  that's  the  end  of  night. 

Towne,  Charles  Hanson 

Beyond  the  Stars Kennerley 

A   Quiet   Singer Kennerley 

Today  and  Tomorrow Doran 

A  fine  poet  who,  among  the  other  Vigilantes,  con- 
secrated his  poetic  abilities  to  the  service  of  his  coun- 
try. The  following  passage  comes  from  one  of  his 
earlier  poems: 

He  had  been  singing — but  I  had  not  heard  his  voice; 
He  had  been  weaving  lovely  dreams  of  song, 
O  many  a  morning  long. 
But  I,  remote  and  far, 
Under  an  alien  star, 
Listened  to  other  singers,  other  birds, 
And   other   silver   words. 

But  does  the  skylark,  singing  sweet  and  clear, 
Beg  the  cold  world  to  hear? 
Rather  he   sings  for   very   rapture  of   singing, 
At  dawn,  or  in  the  blue,  mild  Summer  noon, 
Knowing  that,  late  or  soon, 

His  wealth   of  beauty,   and   his  high   notes,   ringing 
Above  the  earth,  will  make  some  heart  rejoice. 

— In  A    Quiet   Singer. 

Untermeyer,  Louis 

Challenge    Century 

These    Times Holt 

A  poet  of  brilliant,  incisive  intellect,  interested  in 
the  life  of  to-day. 

Lo — to  the  battle-ground  of  life, 

Child,  you  have  come,  like  a  conquering  shout, 
Out  of  a  struggle— into  strife; 
Out  of  a  darkness — into  doubt. 

Girt  with  the  fragile  armor  of  youth, 
Child,  you  must  nde  into  endless  wars, 

With  the  sword  of  protest,  the  buckler  of  truth, 
And  a  banner  of  love  to  sweep  the  stars. 

About  you  the  world's  despair  will  surge; 

Into  defeat  you  must  plunge  and  grope — 
Bo  to  the  faltering  an  urge; 

Be  to  the  hopeless  years  a  hope! 

Be  to  the  darkened  world  a  flame; 

Be  to  its  unconcern  a  blow —  \ 

For  out  of  its  pain  and  tumult  you  came, 

And  into  its  tumult  and  pain  you  go. 

— In    Challenge. 

Upson,  Arthur 

Selected  Poems Mosher 

A  rare  poet  whose  early  death  cut  short  a  promising 
career. 

EX    LIBRIS. 
In  an  old  book  at  even  as  I  read 

Fast  fading  words  adown  my  shadowy  page, 

I  crossed  a  tale  of  how,  in  other  age. 
At  Arqua,  with  his  books  around  him,  sped 
The   word   to   Petrarch;   and   with   noble   head 

Bowed  gently  o'er  his  volume  that  sweet  sage 

To   Silence   paid   his  willing  seigniorage. 
And  they  who  found  him  whispered,  "He  is  dead!" 

Thus  timely  from  old   comradeships  would   I 
To   Silence  also   rise.     Let  there   be  night, 

Stillness,  and  only  these  staid  watchers  by, 
And  no  light  shine  save  my  low  study  light — 

Lest  of  his  kind   intent  some   human   cry 
Interpret  not  the  Messenger  aright. 

— In   The  City.    Pub.  by   Macmillan. 

Van  Dyke,  Henry 

Poems  Scribner 

A  distinguished  and  well-known  poet,  using  "classic" 
measures. 


1.", 


From  AN  ANGLER'S,  WISH. 

When   tulips   bloom   in    Union    Square, 
And  timid  breaths  of  vernal  air 

Co  wandering  down  the  dusty  town 
Eike  children  lost  in   Vanity   Fair; 

When   every  long   unlovely   row 
Of   westward   houses   stands  aglow, 

And  leads  the  eyes  toward  sunset  skies 
Beyond  the   hills   where   green   trees   grow: 

Then  weary  seems  the  street  parade, 
And    weary   books,   and   weary   trade; 

I'm  only   wishing  to  go  a -fishing; 
For  this  the  month  of  May  was  made. 

Wattles,  Willard 

Lanterns  in  Gethsemane ......Dutton 

A    devotional    and    naive    poet    the     wellfcprings    <i 

whose    inspiration    are    in    Biblical    literature. 
COMRADES   OF  THE  CROSS. 
I  cannot  think  or  reason, 
I  only  know  He  came 
With   hands  and  feet  of  healing 
And   wild   heart  all  aflame. 

With  eyes  that  dimmed  and  softened 

At  all  the  things  lie   saw, 
And   in   his  pillared   singing 
I    read    the    marching    I. aw. 

T    only   know   He   loves   me, 
Enfolds  and   understands — 
And   oh,   Tlis  heart  that   holds  me, 
And    oh,    his   certain    hands — 

'The  man,  the   Christ,  the  soldier. 
Who   from  his   cross  of   pain 
Cried  to  the  dying  comrade, 
"I, ad,    we   shall*  meet   again."' 
— Version    taken    from    the    anthology    "Christ    in    the 
Poetry  of  Today."    Woman's  Press. 

Wheelock,  John  Hall 

"\   Love  and  Liberation Sherman 

The  Human  Fantasy Sherman 

Delicate  art  enshrining  (for  the  most  part  )  the 
theme  of  love  in  life. 

LIFE. 
Eife   burns  us  up   like   tire, 

And   Song  goes  up  in  flame: 
The    radiant    body   smoulders 
To  the  ashes  whence  it  came. 

Out  of  things  it  arises 

With  a  mouth  that  laughs  and   sings. 
Backwards  it  fades  and   falters 

Into   the   char   of   tilings. 

Yet   soars  a  voice  above  it — 

Eove  is  holy  and  strong; 
The  best  of  us  forever 

Escapes   in  Love  and   Song. 

— In    Love   and   Liberation. 

Widdemer,  Margaret 

The  Factories  and  Other  Lyrics Holt 

The  Old  Road  to  Paradise  and 

Other  Poems Holt 

A  young  poet  who,  in  the  midst  of  struggle  with 
the  problems  of  life,  is  now  victorious  in  mood  and 
now  having  heart-break  for  the  crushed  and  sorrow- 
laden.  In  vital  verse  of  very  singing  quality  sin- 
gives  the  world  her  experiences. 

TERESINA'S    FACE. 
He  saw  it  last  of  all  before  they  herded  in  the   steer- 
age, 
Dark   against   the    sunset    where    he   lingered    by    the 
hoM, 
The    tear-stained     dusk-rose     face     of     her,     the     little 
Teresina, 
Sailing  out  to  lands  of   gold. 


Ah,  the  days  were  long,   long  days,  still  toiling  in  the 
vineyard, 
Working  for  the  coins  that  set  him  free  to  go  to  her, 
Where   gay   it   glowed,   the   flower   face   of   little    Tere- 
sina, 
Where  the  joy  and  riches  were: 

Hard  to  find  one  rose-face   where  the   dark   rose-faces 
cluster, 
Where    the    outland    laws    are    strange    and    outland 
voices  hum, 
(Only  one  lad's  hoping,  and  the  word  of  Teresina, 
Who  wouM  wait  for  him  to  come!) 

God    grant    he   may   not    find   her,    since    he    might    not 
win  her  freedom, 
Nor  yet   be   great  enough   to   love,   in    such   marred, 
captive  wise, 
The  patient,  painted  face  of  her,  the  little  Teresina, 
With  its  cowed,  all-knowing  eyes! 

— In    The   Factories  and  Other  Lyrics. 

Wilkinson,  Florence  (Mrs.  Evans) 

The  Ride  Home Houghton 

The  Far  Country Doubleday  Cage 

A  poet  of  masterly  mind  and  great  charm  in  expres- 
sion, [mpressiens  from  many  lands  and  sources  of 
culture  enrich  these  volumes.  In  form  the  poems 
show   great    variety    (but   no   free   verge). 

From  BEYOND  THE  SPECTRUM. 
We  cannot  look   beyond 
The    spectrum's    mystic   bar. 
Beyond   the   violet   light, 

Yea,    other    lights    there    are 
And    waves  that   touch    us   not 
Voyaging  far. 

Vast   ordered    forces   whirl. 

Invisible,   unfelt, 

Their   language   less  than   sound, 

Their  name   unspelt, 

Suns  cannot  brighten   them 

Nor  white  heat  melt. 

*  *  *  * 

Yet  one  Mind  fashioned  it 
And   Us,   a  luminous   whole, 
As    lastly,    thou    shalt    see, 
Thou,   O  my   soul. 

Wilkinson,  Marguerite  O.  B. 

In   Vivid  Gardens Sherman 

Great  insight  into  life,  fine  vision,  and  mastery  of 
man)  of  the  technical  difficulties  are  characteristic  of 
her   verse. 

AN   INCANTATION'. 
O   strong   sun    of   heaven,   harm   not   my    love. 
Sear    him    not    with    your    flame,    blind    him    not    with 

your  beauty, 
Shine  for  his  pleasure! 

O  gray  rains  of  heaven,  harm  not  my  love, 
Drown   not  in   your  torrent  the   song  of  his   heart, 
Eave  and  caress  him! 

O   swift  winds  of  heaven,   harm  not  my  love, 
Bruise  not  nor  buffet  him  with  your  rough   humor, 
Sing  you  his  prowess! 

O   mighty   triad,    strong   ones   of   heaven, 

Sun,   rain   and   wind,  be  gentle,   I   charge   you; 

For  your  mad  mood  of  wrath  have  me,  I  am   ready — 

But  spare  him,  my  lover,  most  proud  and  most  dear — 

O   sun,   rain   and   wind,   strong  ones  of   heaven! 

Woodberry,  George  Edward 

Poems   Macmillan 

The     Flight Macmillan 

Ideal  Passion The  Woodberry  Society 

A  writer  of  nobte  contemplative  poetry.  The  voice 
is  very  human,  though  it  comes  from  a  scholarly  and 
classic  retreat. 


11 


THE   SECRET. 
Nightingales   warble   about   it, 

All   night   under  blossom   and   star; 
The   wild   swan   is  dying  without   it, 

And  the  eagle   crieth  afar; 
The   sun   he  doth   mount   but   to   find   it, 

Searching   the   green    earth   o'er; 
But  more  doth  a  man's  heart  mind  it, 

Oh,  more,  more,  more! 

Over  the  gray  leagues  of  ocean 

The    infinite    yearneth    alone; 
The   forests   with   wandering   emotion 

The   thing  they   know  not   intone; 
Creation  arose  but  to  see  it, 

A  million   lamps   in  the   blue; 
But  a  lover  he  shall  be  it 

If   one   sweet   maid   is  true. 

— In    Wild  Eden.    Pub.   by   Macmillan. 

COLLECTIONS 

Braithwaite,  W.  S. 

Anthology  of  Magazine  Verse,  1914,  1915, 
1916,  1917,  1918. 
Clarke,  G.  H. 

Treasury  of  War  Poetry Houghton 

Cronyn,  George  W. 

The   Path  on   the   Rainbow 

Boni  and  Liveright 

From  folk-lore  of  the  American  Indians.  A  valu- 
able collection. 

Crow,   Martha  Foote 

Christ  in  the  Poetry  of  Today,  2nd 
edition,  with  Additional  Section 
on   Christ  and  the  World  War.... 

Women's  Press 
Cunliffe,  J.  W. 

Poems  of  the  Great  War Macmillan 

Frothingham,  Robert 

Songs  of  Men Houghton 

Collection  of  good  poetry  by  both  men  and  women, 
with  no  special  quality  that  should  distinguish  it  as 
peculiarly  adapted  to  men. 


Monroe,  H..  and  Henderson,  A.  C. 

The  New  Poetry Macmillan 

Best    collection    for    those    who    seek    to    understand 
the  so-called   "new"   poetry.     Valuable  preface. 

Richards,  G.  M. 

Melody  of  Earth Houghton 

An   Anthology   of  Garden   and   Nature    Poems   from 
present  day  poets. 

Rittenhouse,  Jessie  B. 

A  Little  Book  of  Modern  Verse 

Houghton 
Present-day  verse  in   standardized   forms. 

Some  Imagist  Poets,  1915,  1916,  1917, 

1918  Houghton 

Stevenson,  B.  E. 

Home  Book  of  Verse,  new  edition 

with  additions Holt 

A  bulky  volume   of   well-selected   verse.      An    indis- 
pensable book. 

Teasdale,  S. 

The  Answering  Voice:  an  Anthol- 
ogy of  Love  Poetry  by  Women.... 

Houghton 

Wattles,  Willard 

Sunflowers:  a  book  of  Kansas  Verse* 

McClurg 

Wheeler,  W.  R. 

Book  of  Verse  of  the  Great  War.. 

Yale  Univ.  Press 

111  poems  by  American  and  English  poets. 

Wilkinson,  Marguerite 

Golden  Songs  of  a  Golden  State*.... 

McClurg 

Poems   of   California. 

*The    committee    wishes    that    every    State    in    the 
Union  were  represented  by  a  poetic  anthology. 


15 


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ISBooKlSDtrE 

°VEHDUE.       °    ••■00    ON    THE    8E^eNrHUoTH 


LD2l-100«.7i.33 


U.C.  BERKELEY  LIBRARIES 


C030T42375 


402378 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


